Conner Davidson
Basic Backstory Conner Davidson’s past is nothing extraordinary, in fact, it is downright normal. She was a single daughter, raised in Wolverhampton, just north of Manchester, in a normal family to normal parents. Conner was conceived two months before her parent’s marriage, a surprise, if not a totally unwelcome one, but she would grow up with affection and care (That isn’t to say her parents were perfect, far from it, but they tried their best). They had a small apartment on the eastside of town, just three streets over from the park. The roof sometimes leaked and the stove was about 200 years old, but it was home. Her parents were never heavy with wealth, but they also weren’t completely dirt poor. Her father, Henry Davidson, was a practicing civil attorney of modest standing and her mother, Abigail Davidson, was a secondary school English teacher. If they needed something, they could afford it, but usually there was little else to spend. It is said that all wizarding kind comes from somewhere, descendants of descendants, so perhaps somewhere along the line, some wizard or witch sprouted up in Conner’s family tree, a lone snag, but if so, it must have been generations upon generations ago and is since long forgotten. Her family was about as muggle as you can get. No weird long lost cousins, or hidden skeletons (both literal and figurative) in the closet, just rent, bills, and taxes to pay. That said, there had always been a bit of weirdness that seemed to follow Conner, random happenstance that occasionally pushed the bounds of believability, such as when Anthony Petersworth, a boy who sat behind Conner in maths and had a tendency to shoot spitballs at the back of her neck, was brutally shat upon by a group of exceptionally well aimed and incredibly flatulent pigeons during afternoon recess on her second week of 5th year schooling. That said, it was never something fully obvious, just a series of small oddities of life. At least, that is what the Davidson’s told themselves, right up until a wrinkled robed woman knocked on their door four weeks after Conner’s eleventh birthday, a briefcase in one hand, and a wand in the other. That was certainly not a normal day. Personality Five months, that is how long it has been since the old woman with a nose like a hawk and enough wrinkles to make her look like an old suitcase, first came knocking on the Davidson’s door. Five months since Conner learned she was a witch. She was ecstatic at first, scared maybe, but ecstatic. It all sounded to good to be true and to be honest she couldn't sleep a wink that night or the next. All she wanted to do was think (or daydream as it was) about the future, but a little knot seemed to form ever bigger in her gut. She thought that it was just the jitters, that by now it would be gone and she would be able to handle all of this just a bit better. But no. It only grew. She is afraid. She is afraid of moving away from her parents for the first time; she is afraid of trying to fit in with a culture she only half understands and other kids she doesn't know; and she is afraid of a hundred other tiny miniscule things; but most of all, she is afraid she will fail to live up to expectations, both others’, and perhaps more importantly, her own. She wants to be brave, to be strong, to be smart, and courageous. To be the kind of person her parents could be proud of. She tries to force herself into the act, stand straight even when all she wants to do is run, piss herself, or both; but it is still just an attempt. She is a person of self doubt, and for every failure (or perceived failure)is ample fuel for a sharp temper and a reason for a shameful jealousy. Her father always told her that she could be anything if she set her mind to it. She used to think it would be just that easy, but no matter how much she tries to act like a lion, she still feels like a scared little girl. Owl Conner owns a small Ferruginous Pygmy Owl by the name of Murdock. He is a temperamental little creature, with a resting foul mood, and a stomach seemingly larger than his tiny stature could possibly allow. Indeed one of the few ways to actually draw the angry bugger out of his perpetual annoyance with the world at large, is to present him with something consumable and delicious. Category:Students Category:Gryffindors